


Song of Nimrodel

by raiyana



Series: The Reader Inserts [13]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Elven flirting, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friendship/Love, Galadriel the Matchmaker - don't even tell me she wouldn't do that., Gen, Nimrodel - Freeform, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pre-Lord of The Rings, Pre-The Hobbit, Singing, Tumblr: ImaginexHobbit, yea - the smut has happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-17 12:30:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11851602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiyana/pseuds/raiyana
Summary: Distracting the Marsh Warden on duty was not your intention... losing your heart to an unfamiliar smile was not part of your plan for your innocent little excursion.Sparking a friendship of a century - well, you felt halfway happy about that part...Loving someone hiding behind hardened walls is never simple, not even if he doesn't come with meddling brothers like Rumil and Orophin.Wil you ever manage to win the affections of the taciturn Commander?Altrnatively a story about Songs, Elves, Orcs, balls, and court gossip.And Love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a ton of Haldir imagines, which I'll list in chapter summaries.  
> Based on 'Imagine seducing Haldir and distracting him from his guard duties.'  
> I realise this prompt invites smuttiness, but I like keeping to Tolkien's idea of sex being valid as a way of marrying someone for Elves, so I thought about what that might mean for how seduction/flirting works.  
> The answer is innocence and simple things shared... perhaps a song?

### Imagine seducing Haldir and distracting him from his guard duties.

You walked through the forest with your little sister in tow. Oreliel had begged for weeks to get you to take her along to see the Nimrodel, after you had sung her the song one evening before bedtime.

Reaching the famous stream was no trouble, and though you knew the Marshwardens were patrolling, you did not see any of them. It did not mean you felt unsafe, so near the edge of the forest, unshielded by the massive mallorns you called home. Catching Oreliel’s hand, you began singing softly.

_An Elven-maid there was of old,_  
_A shining star by day:_  
 _Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,_  
 _Her shoes of silver-grey._

“Do you think her hair looked like mine?” Oreliel asked, fingering her pale gold locks.

“Perhaps,” you replied, earning a brilliant smile from your little Morning Star. You smiled back. “Want to hear a little more, _pinig_?” you asked, enjoying the sight of her dancing alongside the glittering stream. Oreliel nodded.  
  
_“A star was bound upon her brows,_  
 _A light was on her hair_  
 _As sun upon the golden boughs_  
 _In Lórien the fair.”_

Oreliel laughed, dipping her toes in the clear water.

_“Her hair was long, her limbs were white,_   
_And fair she was and free;_   
_And in the wind she went as light_   
_As leaf of linden-tree.”_

Oreliel splashed your light green dress playfully.

“Do you think Nimrodel sang as well as you do, Curulaeril?” Oreliel asked thoughtfully. You chuckled.

“The song would suggest she had a very fair voice, pinig,” you smiled, flattered even if Oreliel did not truly understand what an honour it was to be compared favourably to such a figure as fair Nimrodel held in the hearts of your people, who still sang her lamentations from time to time. You had wondered, before, what had truly happened to Nimrodel, but no one knew her fate since her disappearance in 1981, which was centuries ago, now. Singing softly, you trailed your fingers through Oreliel’s golden locks, your voice lulling her to sleep with her head on your lap, tired from the long walk.

_“Beside the falls of Nimrodel,_   
_By water clear and cool,_   
_Her voice as falling silver fell_   
_Into the shining pool.”_

Enjoying the light touch of sunlight on your fair skin, you let your voice fall silent, humming a soothing lullaby in your sister’s ear.

_“Where now she wanders none can tell,_   
_In sunlight or in shade;_   
_For lost of yore was Nimrodel_   
_And in the mountains strayed.”_

You jumped, startled by the male voice continuing where yours had left off. Turning your head, you saw him standing among the trees, some distance off, a bow and quiver on his back, weapons at his side. For a moment you felt fright, but then he stepped into a shaft of light, the dappled sunlight catching in the clasp of his cloak, inlaid with the sigil of the Marshwardens.

“You startled me, Warden,” you accused, your hand continuing to run through Oreliel’s golden hair, keeping her asleep.

“ _Goheno-nîn_ ,” he replied easily, bowing his head towards your seated form. “It is not often we hear such voices so far from Caras Galadhon, singing the old song of Nimrodel the Fair.” He smiled at you, from a face that seemed unfamiliar with the practise, and something in his eyes caught your interest.

“Would you like to hear the rest, Warden?” you offered, gesturing to the ground near you.

“My name is Haldir,” he replied, “and I ought to get back to patrolling our borders, Lirulin.”

“Bide a while, Lord Haldir,” you offered again, recognising the name as one of Lady Galadriel’s most esteemed warriors. “Let me at least offer you my song in thanks for your diligent protection.”

When he laughed, you knew you had not been too forward, feeling a strange impulse to keep the joyous expression on his face, keep his eyes sparkling in your direction. Lowering your eyes, certain that your cheeks were glowing, you found your voice once more, closing your eyes and letting the melody carry you aloft.  
  
_“The elven-ship in haven grey_  
 _Beneath the mountain-lee_  
 _Awaited her for many a day_  
 _Beside the roaring sea._  
  
_A wind by night in Northern lands_  
 _Arose, and loud it cried,_  
 _And drove the ship from elven-strands_  
 _Across the streaming tide._  
  
_When dawn came dim the land was lost,_  
 _The mountains sinking grey_  
 _Beyond the heaving waves that tossed_  
 _Their plumes of blinding spray._  
  
_Amroth beheld the fading shore_  
 _Now low beyond the swell,_  
 _And cursed the faithless ship that bore_  
 _Him far from Nimrodel._  
  
_Of old he was an Elven-king,_  
 _A lord of tree and glen,_  
 _When golden were the boughs in spring_  
 _In fair Lothlórien._  
  
_From helm to sea they saw him leap,_  
 _As arrow from the string,_  
 _And dive into the water deep,_  
 _As mew upon the wing._  
  
_The wind was in his flowing hair,_  
 _The foam about him shone;_  
 _Afar they saw him strong and fair_  
 _Go riding like a swan._  
  
_But from the West has come no word,_  
 _And on the Hither Shore_  
 _No tidings Elven-folk have heard_  
 _Of Amroth evermore.”_

You kept your eyes closed until your song was finished, startled anew when you felt warm fingers grasp your hand, raising it slowly. Opening your eyes, you stared at Haldir’s chiselled face, unable to tear your eyes from his as he turned your hand over, pressing a kiss to the centre of your palm. You gasped lightly, your tongue moistening suddenly dry lips. Haldir gave you one last smile, his strong fingers lingering on yours as he let your hand fall back to your lap.

“Thank you, Lady Lirulin,” he said quietly, disappearing faster than your eyes could track him. You smiled, closing your fingers around the spot his lips had touched.

“My name is Curulaeril,” you called, but the only reply was a light chuckle that might have been the wind rustling through the leaves above you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lirulin means lark in Quenya


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine Haldir being shocked to learn you have an interest in him & Imagine Rumil introducing you to his brothers

You were singing, a joyous tune flowing beneath the golden boughs of the mallorn trees.

“You seem happy today, mellon,” someone said. You spun, a happy smile on your face.

“Rumil!” you cried, smiling at your friend. “You’re back from the southern borders!”

“I am, but that is not what put a smile on my nightingale’s face,” he replied, chuckling. “Tell me why you are singing today, Curulaeril?”

“I may have learned a new song to please my Lady Galadriel …” you teased. Rumil scoffed, obviously in disbelief. You laughed, a free and joyous sound as you one more recalled the look in _his_ eyes when he kissed your palm. “Or I may have met a very handsome ellon,” you added coyly, knowing that your cheeks were afire when Rumil chuckled.

“I think _I_ will believe the latter,” an elleth’s voice interrupted. You whirled. “Who is the lucky ellon to have caught the eyes of our most beloved song lark?”

“La-Lady Galadriel!” you curtseyed hastily, your patron lady smiling.

“Answer the question, lady Curulaeril,” she continued. “I am always in want of news of new love.” Your cheeks heated further. Beside you, Rumil was quiet. It wasn’t often that the border patrols found themselves in the presence of the Lady of Light; at least, not as often as you did, as the First Singer of the realm, favoured by the Lady’s patronage.

“Well, it is not love yet,” you admitted, your blush deepening under the Lady’s blue gaze that always seemed to see right through you, “for though he has turned my heart to song, I have met him but the once.”

“What is his name, child?” Galadriel asked. You blushed. She was not wrong to call you thus, being many millennia your senior, even if you had recently celebrated your 1200th birthday, but you did not feel like a child today.

“He called himself Haldir, my Lady, one of your famed Marsh Wardens,” you said with a soft smile. Rumil gasped. You turned to glance at him, but he seemed frozen, unable to speak. “It is silly of me, perhaps, but…” you did not continue, suddenly sheepish but the Lady’s hand was kind when she raised your face to her ancient eyes.

 _Do not fear, Curulaeril, beloved singer… none will think you foolish for feeling joy in the company of a worthy ellon._ Galadriel smiled as her words sounded in your head. You bowed deeply once more when she let go of your chin, and Galadriel disappeared as silently as she had arrived.

“ _You_ fancy… _fancy_ … Commander Haldir?” Rumil croaked. You frowned at him. _Commander? Haldir was the commander of the Marshwardens, truly?_ You had seen nothing special about the garb or insignia he wore, thinking back on it, but you had been more focussed on his face and those blue eyes

“And why should you object?” you asked your friend waspishly, having hoped for him to offer you more knowledge – or at least his support as a friend – not incredulity. “Do you not think me beautiful enough that he might think fondly of our meeting as I do?” you asked, when Rumil failed to offer any answer to the first question. “Or do you simply consider me unworthy of your commander?” Rumil’s mouth opened and closed a few times, but uttered no words to defend himself against your angry accusation. With a huff, you stormed off, leaving him to stare after you.

 _Perhaps you were being foolish, thinking that look on his face meant something,_ you thought sadly, climbing the long stair to your talan and seeing again the unfamiliar smile on Haldir’s handsomely angular face.

 

“Lira!” Oreliel met you as you stepped onto the floor of your home with a large smile. You ruffled her hair gently, but you were in no mood for company. You felt guilty for snapping at Rumil, but he had touched a nerve you had yet to discover with his thoughtless words. The way he had emphasized you made it sound like your small flame was as preposterous as if you had proposed wedding an Ent.

“I’m not good company tonight, Oreliel,” you sighed. “Go back to Naneth, pinig,” you murmured, feeling guilty when her face fell. Bending to kiss her brow brought a small smile to her face, at least. Oreliel waved goodbye and you watched her scamper off along the treetop walkway that connected your home with your neighbour’s with a small smile.

With a sigh, you moved to the edge of your talan, staring across the vastness of the forest, spread out like a golden carpet beneath your eyes. You had chosen this tree because it gave you a clear view of the forest below – the favour of the Lady did have perks, and your home high up in the sky was one such perk – all the way to the river. You stood on the northern edge of Caras Galadhon; if you looked west you could follow the ribbon that was Celebrant all the way to Nanduhirion, and if you turned north you could see the waters of the great Anduin in the distance beyond the hill of Cerin Amroth.

Tonight, you faced west, almost dreaming that you could penetrate the dense foliage with your eyes and catch sight of one of the elusive camps of the Marsh Wardens which dotted the perimeter of Lothlórien.  A far-off sparkle was Nimrodel, where you had met Haldir only days ago. You wondered where he was now, whether he was still on guard facing Moria, or whether he had moved further north in the great circle the Wardens used to ensure that no part of the land was left unprotected for long.

 

* * *

 

 

“You have an admirer, brother,” Rumil said quietly, when he returned to the Western border camp. He wasn’t expected back yet – it was assumed that messengers to the Lord and Lady would spend at least a day in Caras Galadhon visiting with friends and family before returning unless their message was urgent.

“You are back already, Rumil?” Haldir queried, before Rumil’s words sank in. His eyes widened and he spun to face his oft-teasing brother. “I have a what?” he muttered, certain he must have misheard. Rumil looked uncommonly serious, however, no glimmer of a jest in his eyes or countenance.

“Remember I told you about my friend ‘Lira’?” Rumil began carefully. Haldir nodded. He did remember Rumil talking about the talented Lira, whom he had met at a feast some decades earlier.

“I do remember that. She is a singer, isn’t she? Favoured by the Lady, so you said.” Haldir searched his memory, but that was all he remembered of Rumil’s ‘Lira’.

“One of our finest voices, brother,” Rumil sighed, wishing that Haldir would actually agree to go to the official feasts every now and again – once a century, even – just _sometimes_. “She told me you met someone by Nimrodel.”

Haldir wondered if ‘his’ Lirulin had told ‘Lira’ of their meeting – why else would Rumil know? Haldir would have been satisfied to keep the encounter as a beautiful memory, to be enjoyed only by him as a shield against the darkness that threatened their borders; a reminder that he was fighting for the beauty of his homeland. “I did,” he admitted. “A Lady most fair, who graced my patrol with her song. I found her by Nimrodel with her daughter.” Haldir had recognised the elleth’s features in the golden-haired elfling, had seen the love she held for the girl in the way she played with her, sang for her. He had watched for some time, enchanted, before he had heard himself utter the next verse of her song.

“Her youngest sister, brother,” Rumil corrected. Haldir’s heart beat slightly erratically in his chest, as a tiny seed of hope burst into vivid life, only to be ruthlessly squashed by his rational mind an instant later. _Even if she were not already wed, she would not dream to look at one such as you,_ his mind snarled. _Such beauty will never be yours to claim, only to admire from afar, the same admiration you hold for the Lady of Light herself._ “And I heard it – from her own lips, no less – that your meeting stirred something in her heart.” _Not true_ , Haldir’s mind wailed, _cannot be true._ He knew, of course, that he was not like other ellyn in Lothlórien, his bulky build at odds with the slender bodies around him, corded muscle instead of wiry strength. It had never been said, but Haldir _had_ wondered if perhaps he did not share true parentage with his brothers, who looked little like him aside from their blonde hair.

“You speak fancifully today, Rumil,” he rebuked harshly, feeling guilty for it but unable to stop his voice reflecting the pain of his thoughts. “Perhaps you have partaken too heavily of the sweet wine served at the Lord’s Court.”

“This is no jest, Haldir,” Rumil argued, his voice rising in volume as his temper flared. “I heard it. Spoken before me, as clearly as I hear you words now, and said in front of our Lady, no less!”

“A fanciful dream of yours, Rumil, I’ll hear no more of it!” Haldir raged, turning on his heel to march away from his infuriating sibling.

Rumil stared after his broad shoulders, sadness in his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

“Lira!”

You recognised Rumil’s voice calling from below with a sigh. Since your argument, you had felt guilty for snapping at him, considering how rarely you actually got to meet because he was so often away with the Wardens.

“Rumil?” you asked, sticking your head over the edge of your talan. He waved up at you. You smiled, waving him up the winding steps that encircled the giant mallorn tree.

“I am sorry, _mellon_ , for my outburst when last we spoke,” you added quietly when he began climbing the steps that would lead him to your floor, a strange blonde elf following him. “I hope you will not hold it against me.”

“I forgive you,” he replied, a bright smile lighting his features.

“I had thought you returned to the borders by now, Rumil,” you noted, turning away to fetch three silver goblets. They had been part of a payment you’d received for singing at the silversmith’s wedding feast, and matched the carafe you used to serve elderflower wine when you had guests. “Who is your friend?” you asked, pouring each of your guests a goblet of the sweet wine, and turning around to catch Rumil biting his lip.

“This is Orophin, my brother,” Rumil said. Orophin bowed politely, his eyes taking in all aspects of your person when he stood up straight.

Handing each of them a goblet and waving them to sit on the scattered cushions, you folded your legs gracefully, sinking down onto your favourite cushion, a large and soft pillow made from embroidered silk in your favourite green hue. You smiled, the gracious hostess as ever, though you felt a little discomforted by the intense stare aimed at you.

“I am pleased to meet you, Orophin,” you nodded at him.

“As I am you, my Lady,” Orophin replied, though his face remained blank like a born courtier’s.

His voice was pleasant, you thought, though not as deep as the one that seemed to find itself wending through your waking dreams. Once more, the mysterious Haldir appeared in your mind’s eye. You had heard his name mentioned, heard him hailed as a warrior of renown, but you had never met him before that day by the Nimrodel. You did not remember seeing him at feasts; even if you usually sang with your eyes closed, you thought you would have noticed his impressive physique in the crowds or during the dancing parts of the celebrations.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” you asked, fixing your gaze on Rumil who seemed oddly fidgety.

“Well,” he began, trailing off indecisively.

“We wish for a favour,” his brother interjected, elbowing him none-too-gently. You hid a smile at the sight. Rumil scowled at him.

“A favour?” you repeated, feeling confused. “Certainly, I would grant you a favour, Rumil, if you ask it of me. What do you wish me to do?” Your words did not seem to still Rumil’s fidgeting, however, and you frowned lightly at his usually sunny disposition so warped he seemed almost scared.

“We wish you to sing, my Lady,” Orophin intervened once more, returning Rumil’s glare evenly.

“A special song?” you asked, beginning to think you knew why Rumil was so nervous. “Have you found your own small flame and wish my help to fan it?” you asked, with a pleased smile, “I should be glad to aid you, _mellon._ ” Laughing softly, you reached out to squeeze Rumil’s hand.

“Thank you,” he said, blushing.

“What is the song?” you asked, running through the list of romantic options in your head.

“Lullaby,” Rumil replied breathlessly while beside him Orophin’s smile was like the sun appearing on a drizzly day. “We want you to sing a lullaby.”

You stared at him for a moment before nodding acceptance. A peculiar request, you thought, hardly the most romantic of the songs you knew, but perhaps it was special to Rumil’s sweetheart?

 

 

Five days later, you were sitting in a tree, your usual flowing dresses and robes replaced with a more practical tunic of soft linen and wool over a pair of leather breeches. The knee-high boots were technically your naneth’s, but they fit well and you did not have a set of your own, preferring to walk barefoot or wearing your silk slippers. Orophin sat beside you, still and watchful, and Rumil had gone off – presumably to fetch whomever he wanted to woo with your singing. You had practised the song, humming the melody as you gazed down from your branch, hoping to spot Rumil and his ladylove so you knew when you ought to start. Orophin’s elbow in your ribs almost pushed you from your perch, but he managed to right your flailing easily. You glared at him.

“Sing!” he hissed. Your glare intensified.

 _“_ _Sing all ye joyful, now sing all together!_  
_The wind’s in the tree-top, the wind's in the heather;_  
 _The stars are in blossom, the moon is in flower,_  
 _And bright are the windows of Night in her tower.”_

You sang it slowly, the proper pacing for a lullaby, your eyes closed with the ease of a long habit as you let your voice sound among the trees.  
  
_Dance all ye joyful, now dance all together!  
Soft is the grass, and let foot be like feather!_

You heard a slight gasp, opening your eyes to finish the verse. You stared.

_The river is silver, the shadows are fleeting;  
Merry is May-time, and merry our meeting._

Rumil had returned, indeed, though he had not brought an elleth to hear you, but his commander, Haldir! You stared, enjoying watching emotions play across Haldir’s face, which was somehow more chiselled than you recalled from the day at Nimrodel.

“Yes…” Rumil began awkwardly, “Err… this is my friend Curulaeril.” He gestured vaguely at you, though you barely heard him, still reeling from the small shock of seeing Haldir so unexpectedly. “And this is my brother.” You turned your head to look for Orophin, but he had disappeared silently. “Haldir,” Rumil added helplessly.

“Commander Haldir is your brother?” you asked. Why had he not to- _oh_. You kept your face serenely blank, trying to hide the hurt you felt at realizing that your friend really _didn’t_ think you were worthy of his brother. A sense of abject betrayal filled you, stealing the breath from your lungs and removing all the joy you had felt at seeing Haldir.

“You know, when Rumil told me he had found a singing lark in a tree…” Haldir said hesitantly, gesturing vaguely with one hand, the other resting on the blade strapped to his belt.

You chuckled, keeping the sadness off your face through sheer stubbornness. Leaping from your branch, you bowed to the two Ellyn. You desperately wanted to be elsewhere, _away_ from Rumil who was obviously not the friend you had thought you knew. No friend would have made you feel this ill-used, you thought, a sudden stab of fury in your gut.

“You did not expect myself,” you replied to Haldir, finding a small smile for him somewhere and keeping the anger out of your voice as you ignored Rumil’s presence entirely. “I shall be on my way, Marsh Wardens.” Nodding to them, you turned on your heel to walk back to Caras Galadhon.

“I was… pleased to have heard your voice once more, fair Curulaeril,” Haldir mumbled behind you, no hint of the interest or joy in his voice that had been present during your last encounter. You wondered if a heart once broken could continue breaking. Obviously, Haldir had no interest in you, and this was Rumil’s tasteless attempt at making a joke at your expense. “Perhaps I will hear you again at the next feast.” You did not think it likely. Even if he showed up, you could probably find a way to avoid him until you moved past your fanciful notions of infatuation. Nodding in polite disinterest, you turned for home.

“At least let us escort you back!” Rumil offered, sounding almost desperate. Your spine stiffened at the sound of his voice.

“I need no favours from _you_ , Marsh Warden,” you said, making a supreme effort at keeping your voice steady as you began to walk swiftly away from the two brothers.

 

* * *

 

“What was this, Rumil?” Haldir asked quietly, looking at his younger brother when Curulaeril had disappeared among the trees.

“I just wanted you to meet officially!” Rumil tried. Haldir’s stern look only darkened.

“I specifically asked you not to try to find the Lady from Nimrodel!” he roared. “Did you think – simply because I liked her song and she continued singing in my presence – that she would wish to be so invaded twice?!” Looking at her today, she was still fair, fairer than any he’d seen, but she had not had the same spark of joy as he had cherished at Nimrodel, and now that memory felt tarnished, less beautiful than before. “Why are all your jests so…” Haldir paused, struggling for the right word. “…cruel. What you did to her today was cruel, and what you did to me equally so.”

“But, I-”

“Rumil, I was _happy_ not knowing who she was. She was a pleasant memory, simply a beautiful moment between two elves and you… you _ruined_ it.” Haldir was angry, and sad, and hurt, and he didn’t even know he was able to feel all that at the same time, but mostly he was furious that Rumil had made him a co-conspirator. It seemed obvious to Haldir that Curulaeril – he preferred it when he could call her Lady Lirulin in his mind and watch her blue eyes sparkle at him – sought peace outside the capital, and Rumil had broken her trust by leading a comparable stranger into her space to gawk at her like she was, well, a caged lark, made to sing on command. Haldir stomped off, calling back over his shoulder, “Go pester Orophin for a while, brother, and do not interfere in my life or hers again. I do not think she will call you her friend after today.” Haldir had caught the flash of betrayal on her face, though she hid it quickly, and the memory pained him more than he wanted to admit, feeling responsible for Rumil’s poor prank.

 

* * *

 

You nearly flew through the forest, though this time you did not feel like singing with joy. You felt like crying, but you held back the tears until you had reached your home, dragging yourself up the staircase that had never seemed too long before and throwing yourself onto your bed. The tears flowed freely.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine Haldir being entranced by your beauty, and offering to show you around @lord-of-the-crazy-hobbits

The Lady Galadriel had decided to visit all the border patrol camps, and you had been almost automatically included as part of her retinue. You and a few musicians had been charged with entertaining the Lady and the Wardens during the evenings before the Lady’s procession moved on to the next hidden camp. During the days, you were free to do as you pleased, and currently it pleased you to stay as far away from Rumil as possible. He had tried to speak to you, but you felt no interest in hearing what he had to say whatsoever.

Of course, avoiding Rumil inevitably lead to bumping into Commander Haldir, who still made your heart beat a little faster even though you tried to tell yourself you had simply suffered a brief and embarrassing infatuation. Obviously, you weren’t lucky enough that he ignored your presence, calling your name with a touch of fond recognition – appropriate for new acquaintances, you told yourself sternly, ignoring the way your heart sped up at the sound of it falling from his lips.

“Permit me to show you around, lady Curulaeril,” Haldir asked quietly, but he did not offer you his arm like a courtier would have and simply fell into step beside you. The distance made you feel bereft, which was stupid, you told yourself harshly. “This camp is semi-permanent,” Haldir began, gesturing to the well-equipped camp; you spotted an archery range and several practice dummies. “In fact, this is my current posting. We run patrols from here into the Dimrill Dale, keeping an eye on the East Gates of Moria.”

“Do you often fight for our borders?” you wondered, tying to banish any images of him lying bloodied on the leaf-strewn mulch somewhere. Haldir laughed lightly.

“No, lady Curulaeril, we are rarely attacked,” he replied easily. You breathed again, but Haldir had looked away, pulling out a well-worn map and missed your expression when he continued talking. “The Orcs of Moria long-since learned the deadly reach of our bows. We still keep vigilant, however, and they do test our defences once or twice every century.” The image returned, making your heart beat rapidly. “Do not fear, my lady,” Haldir tried to reassure you, “you’re quite safe here.” You managed a wooden nod, letting him believe you were worried for your own safety. “Look,” he said, obvious pride as he pointed at the map he had found. You recognized the layout of the forest, though this map had far more annotations and markers than any you had seen in Caras Galadhon. Your finger traced the small stream that was marked _Nimrodel_ , though it had also been annotated with small hill-like symbols beside it. “We’ve mapped all of the forest since I became Commander,” Haldir said. The obvious pride in a job well done made you smile.

“You’ve marked where the ground is not flat!” you suddenly realized, remembering the small incline you had walked over to reach Nimrodel when you were showing Oreliel. Haldir beamed proudly at you, pleased that you’d worked it out for yourself. You couldn’t help but return the smile.

“We’ve also marked every pool and anything we could use for natural defence against invading forces,” he continued, oblivious to your glee disappearing like morning dew for the sun.

“Impressive, Commander,” Lady Galadriel said behind you. You whirled, picking up your leaf-green skirts and dropping into a deep courtesy. “I am afraid, however, that you have stolen my dear Curulaeril, and the musicians wanted a word with her before tonight’s performance.”

“If it does not offend, my lady, I had hoped to rest tonight… I do not feel much like singing,” you admitted, your mind still far too full of images of injured or dying Haldirs to think of performing. Keeping your eyes fixed on Galadriel’s kind smile, you pleaded for the lady to understand your need for escape.

“If you wish to retire, my Wardens shall simply have be joyed by the simple concert without your silver voice to enchant them,” Galadriel said, _though I wish you would reconsider, my lark._

“Thank you, my Lady,” you whispered, fleeing Haldir’s presence with a polite bow.

 

Haldir stared after the fleeing beauty. He had thought their conversation was going well, assuaging her fears and perhaps even impressing her a little? He felt bad for Rumil’s ill-conceived prank and had been determined to prove to her that he wasn’t some uncouth ellon, bent on invading her personal space at every turn. He wasn’t ready to admit to himself why he craved her approval, but he felt a deep desire for her smiles, her true smile, to shine up at him again, banishing the look on her face when he caught her in that tree from his memory. He turned, half-decided on asking Galadriel how to make up for his transgressions, but the Lady had gone while he had been staring after his Lirulin.

Shaking his head at his own foolish fancies, Haldir rolled up his treasured map once more, suddenly less happy in its creation. Carefully stowing the parchment in its leather tube, he scowled at himself.

Lady Curulaeril had said she wouldn’t be singing, but Haldir took himself off on the next patrol, giving his chance to listen to the evening’s entertainment to one of the green recruits, who would have been stuck with the evening’s patrol if he hadn’t intervened. The recruit, Harthor, thanked him profusely, but Haldir waved him off impatiently. He simply wanted to be alone, just him, the forest, and his hopefully silent mind.

 

You had decided to sing; you didn’t _have_ to look at Haldir while you did so, after all, didn’t _have_ to notice whether his eyes would sparkle with joy or look stormy with anger. You caught Galadriel’s proud smile when you stepped forth, but you might as well not have fretted about seeing the commander, as Haldir was not among the audience.

You felt cheated, and slightly angry that you felt so, annoyed with yourself.

Rumil gave you a cautious smile when you stepped up beside the lute-player, but your heart still felt bruised by the cruel prank he had played on you, so you ignored him, closing your eyes and singing for no one but yourself.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine openly flirting with Haldir and him not being sure what to do because he’s not used to beautiful people speaking to him.

“Haldir.” Haldir stiffened, but the Lady never had to repeat a command to her most faithful warrior. He turned, facing the ethereal beauty – not so fair as Curulaeril, in his mind, a small voice whispered, forced away as ruthlessly as he had forced it from his head all the other times it wanted to remind him of some aspect of her that was lovely to him.

“My Lady Galadriel,” he greeted, bowing politely and feeling the reverence he always felt when confronted with her presence.

“There is a sadness in my Realm,” the Lady said. _A sadness surrounding you, Haldir of the Marsh Wardens._

“My Lady, I assure you-” Haldir tried, but his protests were no match for her blue-eyed stare that seemed to pierce his soul. _Go to her._ Galadriel whispered in his head. “I cannot,” he replied, feeling torn. _You see much, Haldir, commander of our defences, yet you do not see what precious gift you have been given, the joy you might find if you accept it._ “I was given nothing,” he confessed. “What I have was taken through mischief.”

“You will find that you are wrong in this, Haldir,” Galadriel remarked. “And if mischief is the cause of this sorrow, then I lay it upon your head to make right what was wronged.” Haldir bowed, recognizing the order, but Galadriel had vanished when he looked up once more.

Haldir had wracked his brain, but found no answer to tell him how to make amends, and so he found himself stepping onto a long staircase, spiralling around one of the tallest Mallorn trees in the Forest and with several talan’s branching off at lower levels. He heard the whispers begin behind him, the mutterings that were the real reason he preferred the simple life on the borders. _What was the Marsh Warden Commander doing here? Why is he dressed in armour?_ He had worn his best set of armour, polished and gleaming, his crimson cape taking the place of his grey-green covering used to hide while patrolling and the fine armour replacing his usual soft leather garb. _Why is the Commander of the Wardens visiting the First Singer?_ Haldir tried to ignore the whispers floating in his wake, but he could not stop himself hearing them anyway.

 

* * *

 

You stared at the splendid figure standing on the last step before he would have walked onto your talan, and your stubborn heart beat a little faster at the sight. Then you worried; _what if he was heading off to war?_ You hadn’t heard any rumours, but the armour spoke loudly. You giggled inappropriately; perhaps he had come so armed to protect him from your anger. He might have been wise to think of it, you mused, still staring. You _were_ angry, though mostly with Rumil and then with yourself. You even harboured a slight resentment for Galadriel, who had told you to follow your heart in the first place.

“Commander Haldir,” you finally managed, surprise clear in your voice. You had hardly expected to see him again at all, let alone so soon. Belatedly, you realised that you were lounging on a low divan, dressed in nothing but a half done-up robe; you had been up late the night before, singing to the stars above, and only recently left your bed. _That could be the reason he was staring so_ , you thought, struggling to hide your blush as you righted your clothes. “You seem to catch me at a disadvantage more often than not.” The joke fell to the ground – you weren’t sure he’d even heard your attempt at levity. You sighed, wishing he’d go away before you were tempted to say any further inanities.

“Lady Curulaeril,” he acknowledged, falling silent once more. “I want to apologise for Rumil’s jest once more. Be assured that he has been punished, and will be no further trouble to you. I also wish to apologise for my own unintentional intrusion; I was not aware of his plans in the slightest.” You stared, mouth agape. Haldir’s face was perfectly blank; perfectly handsome, you thought, wanting to trace those cheekbones with your fingers. The thought made your cheeks feel warm again. “I will take my leave, my Lady Curulaeril.” He added, bowing politely.

“Haldir!” you called, watching him whirl around so swiftly he nearly lost his footing. Standing, you beckoned him forwards.

“My Lady Curulaeril?” he asked, seemingly shy or hesitant, something completely at odds with your perception of his personality and more than a little endearing. You blushed again. He took half a step onto the floor of your talan proper, though he moved no further.

“Look at me,” you whispered, taking a step closer. He was even taller than you remembered, looking down at you from a height advantage. For a moment, you thought you saw a flash of longing, something your brain told you looked like desire, but his face resumed its careful blankness. “I-,” your burst of courage failed you, “I’d like us to be friends, Commander.” You sighed at your own cowardice, unprepared for the smile that lit up his blue eyes.

“I would be pleased to think of you as a friend, Lady Curulaeril,” he replied, giving you another fond smile that made your heart flutter before turning around to walk down the stairs. You sank back down onto your divan.

_What had possessed you to ask for his friendship?_

 

“I hear you had a visitor,” your mother’s voice floated through the air, startling you out of your thoughts. Your brush fell to the floor.

“Naneth,” you greeted, picking it up and returning to the task of brushing your long locks. Her golden curtain of hair filled the corner of your eye as she picked the brush from your fingers, combing gently.

“Want to tell me why Lord Haldir of the Lady’s Marsh Wardens came to see you, looking for all the world like a prospective suitor decked in his finest raiment?” you mother asked calmly, though you heard a note of censure in her tone; she was disappointed not to have been told before the tongues of gossip reached her. You bowed your head.

“I have done a foolish thing, Naneth,” your sighed. Your mother did not interrupt as the story spilled from your lips, frowning lightly at you in the mirror. “And then I asked him to be my friend!” you cried. “So now I will have to be friendly with him while my heart wants far more. I am… foolish,” you repeated. Your mother hummed lightly, finishing the work of making your hair look beautiful for your performance later.

“Not so foolish as you may think, sellig,” she murmured. “If you wish for this Haldir to notice you… what better way than to spend time with him, to show him all that you are?” Pressing her lips to your ear for luck, she turned to pick up the dress you had chosen for tonight, wrinkling her nose at the austere garment you had chosen to match your mood. Tossing it onto a chair with a huff, she opened your wardrobe, rattling the hangers as she sought out a pale green gown which you knew made your dark hair and blue eyes shine. “Wear this, my blossom,” she smiled, helping you lace up the gown. “And do introduce me to this Haldir when you have a moment. I am reliably informed that he will be present for the celebrations tonight.”

“Yes, Naneth,” you acquiesced, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your father’s Noldorin blood had given you your dark locks, and his granite eyes combined with your mother’s blue forget-me-nots had transformed in you into a deep dark blue. You showed traits of a Sindar, too, of course, though the hair was a giveaway. Oreliel had inherited pure golden hair – your mother’s was a paler gold – but you knew that your true beauty lay in the power and clarity of your voice, not the way you looked.

For a moment, you thought you could see Haldir’s pale blonde hair, a stark difference to your own, in the mirror. When you spun around, however, no one was there.

Sliding your feet into your silver-embroidered slippers, you made your way slowly down from your tree-top home, lost in thoughts and foolish hopes that your mother would prove to be right.

 

* * *

 

 

Haldir had been invited to the feast, of course, as befitted his rank, though he would have declined if not for the fact that Curulaeril would be singing. He wondered if it would sound different when he actually had permission to listen, but dismissed it as a fanciful notion. Staring at all the finely dressed Elves that milled around, waiting for Galadriel and Celeborn to descend from their private talan, he felt distinctly underdressed. He hadn’t wanted to wear his armour – it would have looked wrong to be armed at a celebration of the season, he thought – but he hadn’t known what to wear instead. In the end, he was dressed far too simply, leather breeches and boots, with a tunic over top that his mother had once embroidered with a border of lilies. Feeling slightly adrift and uneasy, thinking that he stuck out like a sore thumb among these people, Haldir found himself a dark corner and a goblet of wine.

“You came!” _Her_ voice interrupted Haldir’s gazing into his goblet, his hopes that somehow being capable of courtly interactions would be found at the bottom of the pool of elderflower wine.

“Lady Curulaeril?” he asked dumbly, staring at the vision before him. Her sparkling blue eyes were just like he remembered from Nimrodel, making him feel a little breathless. She smiled, catching his arm.

“Come, there are people you must meet!” she enthused, dragging him off. Haldir felt compelled to go along, startled to find himself being introduced to a lady he did not need to be told was Curulaeril’s mother, the resemblance clear in their faces. “My parents, Nyelle and Romdir, and my sister Oreliel,” she introduced, “and this is my friend, Commander Haldir of the Marsh Wardens.”

“A pleasure, madam,” Haldir managed, with a bow his mother would have approved of. Nyelle smiled gently.

“Certainly, the pleasure is ours,” she replied. “Tell me how the Wardens fare?”

Somehow, Haldir found himself giving an in-depth report on the state of the borders to Nyelle, while Oreliel dragged her father off to the dancing. Curulaeril’s hand rested lightly on his arm when she finally steered him away from her mother, introducing him to everyone she knew in a blur of names and ‘ _my friend, Commander Haldir_ ’s.

“Yes, I would think he is strong,” Haldir heard her remark to an elleth whose name he didn’t catch, while some other elf was expounding on the deliciousness of the bite-sized finger-foods on offer. “Certainly, he looks to be.” _Was she talking about him?_ “No, I have not watched Haldir play at swords, Pengeth,” she sighed, slightly exasperated, and Haldir realised she _was_ , “though I imagine he’d be very good at it.”

“So, how did you meet our little Lira?” the food-praising ellon asked. Haldir had clear forgotten his name.

“Oh, it was most fortuitous,” Curulaeril interrupted, which was probably good, as Haldir had no idea how to explain barging in on a private moment without looking like a complete fool. “I was taking Oreliel to see the falls of Nimrodel a few weeks ago,” she continued, “and Haldir happened upon us, offering me his escort in case danger was lurking. It was very kind.” She bestowed a brilliant smile on him, those dark blue eyes sparkling in a way that made him want to fall into those pools and never resurface.

Haldir could only nod. “Lucky I was nearby,” he croaked. _Had she been at a different meeting than him??_

“You shouldn’t wander alone so,” the ellon rebuked, making Curulaeril frown and breaking the spell of her eyes. Haldir immediately felt bereft, wanting to monopolise her attention. “Perhaps next time you feel like a walk outside the Capital, you would permit me to keep you company?”

“But, while you would be adequate protection, I’m sure, the Lady Galadriel was kind enough to offer me permanent leave to ask one of the Wardens here in Caras Galadhon to serve as my guard,” Curulaeril said, and Haldir was shocked to realise that he could read the falsity in her eyes. Silently, he vowed that he would ensure his men knew that she was allowed to ask for their protection… on _his_ command. “After all, a simple hunter is not so experienced at combat as the Marsh Wardens who guard our entire Realm,” Curulaeril continued breezily, “and my Lord Haldir is the best of these brave warriors. I shall be perfectly safe in his care.” Haldir smirked at the hunter – _what was his name_? – who seemed to be having trouble finding his words.

“As-as you say, Lady Curulaeril,” he stammered. Haldir’s smile widened.

“Perhaps you wish to dance?” she said, startling him when he realised that the hunter had disappeared, and Curulaeril was looking up at him with those eyes. Opening his mouth to accept, he lost the words when her face fell at the tolling of a bell. “That’s the call for the singers,” she explained. “I have to leave you now. You will stay for the concert, won’t you?” she asked, looking so hopeful he had blurted out his acceptance before she even finished the question. Curulaeril gave him one last brilliant smile before running off, disappearing into the crowd.

Once more, Haldir found himself lost and out of his depths. Looking down at the goblet he still held, as full now as it had been when Curulaeril found him, Haldir was surprised by the sudden appearance of the recognisable pale hand, a blue sleeve trailing from the middle finger, of Lady Nyelle.

“My daughter is a bit of a whirlwind, at times,” Nyelle said lightly, taking his arm and leading him to the seats that were lined up in from of the small stage.

“She is…” Haldir replied, unable to decide which word best described the elleth. He felt his cheeks heat slightly, cursing his pale complexion.

“My husband is with the musicians,” Nyelle said, graciously saving him from himself. Haldir smiled gratefully. “I have saved you a seat with myself and Oreliel.”

 

* * *

 

 

For the first time in a long time, you felt nervous before the start of a concert, more nervous than ever before. Walking into the roofless structure that served as the Lady’s Music Hall, you scanned the guests milling about. You spotted your family, waving distractedly to Oreliel who was probably already cajoling ada into a dance, but you were really looking for… _him_. He looked good tonight, you thought, his simple outfit delineating his powerful build and ready warrior’s stance. Haldir was so _different_ to the ellyn you usually spent time with.

“You came!” you cried out, realising your voice had startled him when he looked up sharply. He had been staring into his cup with a mighty frown, looking as though it were the Mirror showing him a dismal future. You babbled something, daring to place a light hand on his arm, though you had no illusions that he would be leading you around the room. Haldir seemed surprised to find himself the object of your attention, but a light smile played around his lips.

Instead of waiting for him to take control of the evening, you decided to get the most awkward introductions over with first, knowing Naneth was watching you intently. Introducing Haldir to your parents went surprisingly well, for which you could probably thank your naneth ameliorating your ada’s taciturn nature. When Oreliel succeeded in her endeavour, you swept Haldir along with a shrewd look from your naneth, introducing him to those you knew – it was most everyone assembled, really.

As one of the most popular performers, you had a distinct advantage when it came to social status in Caras Galadhon, and those who had not heard of Haldir before would certainly have by the end of the night. You wondered for a moment if you should have added a daring rescue to your original meeting, but decided against it at the last second. They lapped up the tale nonetheless, staring at Haldir with far different eyes than when they had first spotted his powerful figure. He might not fit in with this crowd – he was a honed sword among blades of grass, you thought, chiding yourself for your fanciful imagination – but you noticed that he stood a little straighter when you professed to preferring his company – _he did know that’s what you were implying, right?_ – to that of Raevron.

In the end, you didn’t get to have much time to talk _with_ Haldir, who seemed to find himself quite uncomfortable speaking to anyone during a gathering. You threw a glance at your mother for aid when the bell tolled for you to take your place among the chorus, and you noticed her determinedly taking Haldir under her wing. Closing your eyes with a soft smile in his direction – you would sing for him – you opened your mouth, letting the melody flow through you.

 

* * *

 

 

Curulaeril was glorious. Haldir stared, rapt. He had known that she lost herself in her song, had seen it that day at Nimrodel, but tonight she _shone_. Her voice rose above the musicians, flowing into his ears like golden mallorn honey, he thought, something sweet yet tangy that ensnared his soul as he listened. Her dress was a pale green, like a very early spring morning, when the world had only just begun to sprout anew. Her hair had been braided and twisted into an intricate style he had hardly noticed when she first caught him by the arm, too lost in looking at her blue eyes. Now he did see that ethereal beauty he had first loved at Nimrodel, saw her disappear into the song, watched her become a dancing Tinúviel as some ellon he didn’t know sang the parts of Beren.

“Singing always makes her happy, Commander Haldir,” Nyelle whispered during a small break, “but she is more radiant tonight than I have seen before.”

“I will treasure this moment for centuries to come,” Haldir replied, not even bothering to turn his head to acknowledge Nyelle’s words as Curulaeril had opened her eyes – once more catching him with her dark blue stare and holding him spellbound.

 

 

 

Years passed, as your friendship with Haldir grew. You eventually forgave Rumil, though you did not forget the unkindness he’d shown you. Haldir was always careful not to be more than a friend to you, though you would swear that there were moments he watched you with desire and longing. Those moments made your soul cling to the stubborn love it had borne, even if you would never reveal your true heart for fear of losing the friendship you had so carefully built over long conversations and good food. As you got to know him better, you only fell deeper, still trying to convince yourself you were satisfied with friendship.

You sang for him again, though he still did not appear at celebrations often. When he did, you monopolised his attention, though his friendship with you – and the good things you said about him – slowly began to earn him a few friends among the courtiers. You seethed with jealousy every time some pretty elleth tried to catch his eye, but for some reason, Haldir seemed utterly uninterested in finding a wife. It pleased you greatly, while at the same time it vexed you terribly.

Life continued beneath the golden Mallorns.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine loving Haldir but finding it difficult to confess because he’s only acted like good friend towards you + Imagine waking up to see Haldir’s face watching you: worried after rescuing you from an orc attack

You stared across the small pool, listened to the sound of splashes from the small waterfall at the beginning of Nimrodel. To you, this place had become one of memory, even if the century that had passed since you first met a stranger here had turned it bittersweet.

“I remember when I first found you here,” Haldir’s voice sounded behind you; you were not surprised. Though you had accepted the escort of one of the Marsh Wardens stationed in Caras Galadhon, you knew young Harthor would have informed his commander as soon as possible. You had come here with a plan; a plan to confess what had grown in your heart, but you felt slightly apprehensive now that the moment had arrived. You remembered it too, if for different reasons. That first meeting was the first time you had seen him, the origin of the love that burned steadily in your heart, condemned to a vow of silence because the one who held it would never be more than your friend, would never think of you as anyone dearer than that. The memory made you smile regardless of your melancholy, staring into the pool and hoping for a touch of courage.

 

* * *

 

 

“I heard you first, of course, your song and Oreliel’s happy laughter,” Haldir said, smiling at the memory, and took a step further towards her, the lady he still called Lirulin in his head. “I thought it the fairest sound in Lórien then,” he admitted quietly, “and the century since passed has only confirmed my thoughts.” Drinking in the sight of her – the straight spine, the slender figure that haunted his dreams clad in pale green, a waterfall of black hair, raven silk down her back – he wanted to reach, turn her around to face him but didn’t quite dare, drawing his hand back before he could touch her shoulder.

“I thank you for your kind words,” she replied, still looking into the deep pool below. Haldir frowned. He had not seen her for some months, but she seemed darker, sad, in a way he could not place.

“Why have you come here?” he asked quietly, wanting to ask her to turn around, dispel the sudden fear in his soul.

“They say these waters give healing to the weary… and I am weary,” she mumbled, and Haldir had no time to reach for her before she had stepped off the small rock and plunged into the pool.

“Lirulin!” he screamed, the name breaking free from the prison of his mind as she fell. Falling to his knees, he reached for her in vain as he stared into the water, hardly daring to breathe.

 

* * *

 

You broke the surface, taking a deep breath and shook a few loose strands of hair out of your face. Far above, you heard an odd sound. Looking up, following the rocks you caught sight of Haldir, kneeling on the ground and looking like he was trembling in fear, his hand stretched towards you. You frowned lightly. _Did he not think you could swim?_

“Will you join me, Haldir?” you called, threading water. The water was cool against your skin, your green dress flowing in the water around you. Keeping yourself afloat, you smiled at him.

“Come out of there, Lira,” he called back, still looking a little off. You began to swim towards the lower bank, feeling slightly giddy at your daring.

Making it to the shore, you felt something hit your shoulder; Haldir’s eyes widened, staring at you with abject horror. His mouth moved, but you couldn’t decipher the words, turning your head to look at your shoulder. Staring at the rapidly spreading pool of blood and the black iron arrow still quivering in your flesh, you crumpled to the ground, knowing no more.

 

* * *

 

 

“Lirulin!” Haldir screamed for the second time, watching the arrow strike her chest.

With a bellowed war cry, he ran, throwing himself into battle, paying no heed to his own safety. The orcs were few in number, but fought viciously. Haldir did not care, placing himself between them and Curulaeril’s crumpled body.

He hardly noticed the arrival of another two Marsh Wardens – his first scream had alerted them to danger, and the subsequent roar of battle-fury had called them to aid – and Haldir cared not, parrying every thrust, striking his enemies down for what they had dared steal from him. Never again would he hear the sound of her silver laughter, her lovely voice raised in song as her eyes focused on him, making him feel like she sang just for him, _only_ for him, bestowing her gifts upon him with her smile.

“Commander!” The lieutenant called, while the other warden attempted to stop Haldir chopping the last orc corpse to pieces. “Commander, the lady is still breathing!”

Haldir barely heard him, whirling around wildly to stare at the wet dress, stained with _her_ blood, her face obscured by wet snarls of black hair. The arrow – a coarse and ugly instrument of death – was lodged in her shoulder, not her heart as he had first believed. Haldir felt air rushing back into his lungs – a feat that had seemed impossible a moment before – and sank to his knees beside her, checking her pulse. Her heart beat, steady but slow.

“Back to camp!” he called, uncaring that the black blood of the orcs which stained his hands left ugly marks on her green dress when he lifted her slight body into his arms, blessing his uncommon strength as he set off in a run.

 

* * *

 

 

“Wake up,” he pleaded, when the swiftly summoned healer had finished his work. “Please, Lirulin,” he murmured, cupping her face, “wake up, my sweet.”

None of the ellyn around him could be in any doubt as to his feelings for the beautiful First Singer of the Realm, but Haldir cared little that his heart had been so revealed. He might have lost her today, lost her to a moment of inattentiveness. He cursed himself. He had been far too focused on her to be as on guard as he ought to have been, this close to Moria.

“Wake up,” he whispered, stroking her cheek gently as he prayed.

 

“Hal…dir?” you croaked, your throat drier than sand. The fingers stroking your cheek trembled and disappeared. Opening your eyes required strength you did not have, but you heard him gasp as you fell back onto the pillows, felt his warm – somewhat calloused from swordplay and archery practise – fingers wrap around your own.

“You’re awake!” he cried. You smiled gently, attempting to squeeze his fingers in return, but oblivion claimed you once more.

 

“You’re awake!” he cried, staring raptly at the gentle smile across her face. Looking around – they were quite alone, though he had no doubt his men could hear him through the thin cloth walls of the camp’s medical tent – Haldir leaned in close, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers with a soft sigh. “Please don’t ever scare me like that again, my Lirulin,” he whispered, feeling tears of relief drip onto her fair skin. “I could not bear it if I lost you. I-,” he swallowed hard, “I love you.”

There was no response. When Haldir pulled back a little, he realised that she was unconscious once more.

 

* * *

 

 

When you woke up properly, you were alone. Remembering the arrow, you pulled the neckline of your shift wide, staring at your mending flesh. The scar was reasonably small, more towards your shoulder than your chest – it would be covered by all but a few of your gowns, a distant voice in your head said – but to you it looked ugly. The flesh was shiny and pink, and felt oddly stretched, as well as a little itchy. You had never been seriously hurt before – barely even remembering the last time you saw your own blood, in fact – and this marring of your pristine skin was terribly unsightly, you thought. With a small whimper, you pulled the shift back across the new scar, trying to put it out of your mind.

“My Lady?” someone asked outside the tent. You thought the voice was familiar.

“…Orophin?” you asked, wondering what had happened. Looking down at the arrow quivering in your body was the last thing you really remembered.

Orophin ducked into the tent. “I thought I heard you wake up,” he smiled, putting down a goblet and a bowl that smelled like heavenly stew. “I brought you some food.”

Throwing yourself into the task of eating, you ignored Orophin completely until the last spoonful had gone. Then you realised something. “Haldir!” you cried out, staring at his younger brother as your heart pounded with wild fear.

“He’s fine, just fine,” Orophin said, pushing on your good shoulder to get you to lie down again. Your head throbbed. “He’s leading a small attack force to rout out any orcs who accompanied those that accosted you. I have orders to get you safely back to Caras Galadhon as soon as possible.” You felt slightly numb. _Orcs? There weren’t supposed to be Orcs in the forest, only in Moria?_ “You should rest a little. We’ll ride in a few hours. I’ll find you something proper to wear,” Orophin promised, rising to leave.

“Wait!” you called, catching his sleeve. Orophin looked back at you, the questioning look on his face so much like his brothers’ it made you smile. Physically, the three were not too much alike, though you knew better than to comment on their disparities. “Was… was Haldir very angry with me?” you whispered nervously, biting your lip. Orophin chuckled, placing his hand on yours and giving it a small squeeze.

“No, my Lady,” he said. “My brother was very worried, and _very_ angry that Orcs had reached the Nimrodel unmolested…. But he is _not_ angry with _you_.”

With a bow, he ducked out of the tent, before you could ask any more questions, and fatigue claimed you almost instantly.

 

You did not truly remember the ride back to Caras Galadhon, sitting in front of Orophin and being lulled asleep by the smooth gait of his horse. Haldir had not returned from his scouting trip before you left the well-concealed camp, and you spent most of the ride reliving the look on his face when _he_ noticed you had been shot, the look that had made you turn your head to see the arrow.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine comforting Haldir after he is taunted for having a bulkier build than most elves.

“I don’t understand why he comes to these dances,” someone whispered to her friend. “It’s not like he is ever asked to dance.”

“Who would want to?” her friend replied. Haldir could feel their eyes on his back, stiffening as he realized they were talking about him. “He’d crush you like a bug,” she whispered, “he’s so big. I’d be scared to stand as close as lady Curulaeril dares.”

“That’s nothing,” the first gossipy lady informed gleefully; Haldir suddenly recognized her as Eilinel, handmaiden of Galadriel, “I saw him get stuck in a doorway once. It’s unnatural, being that broad.” The second elleth laughed, cruelly amused as she stared at him.

 

* * *

 

You followed Haldir out to the balcony when you caught a flash of him ducking out through one of the doorways. You had overheard Hebedil – maker of fine shoes which you certainly would not be purchasing anymore – gossiping with Eilinel, though you had a feeling they had had more unkind things to say about the commander’s physique than simply the comment you’d overheard.

Something Rumil had once told you appeared in your thoughts. ‘The Commander is our best warrior… but his heart is gentler than most.’ It was a truth you had learned as your friendship grew, but now you thought you might have learned the truth that cut deepest: Haldir was not like other ellon you had known… and he did not like to be reminded.

 

* * *

 

“You left quickly, mellon,” Curulaeril said, when she found him leaning on a railing, staring out over the tree-tops. “Are you well?” she asked, standing beside him. Haldir moved away.

“You are being commended for your bravery,” he joked, trying to throw her off as Eilinel’s words echoed in his head.

“ _My_ bravery, Haldir?” Curulaeril laughed, placing her hand on his arm. He shook it off, turning away from her. “We both know that of us, you are the brave one, mellon,” she whispered, placing her palm flat against his back, resting where he felt his heart pound at her touch.

“Do not!” he cried, stepping away from her gentle hand. He had known – he had _always_ known – that she would never be his, but he didn’t think he could bear her touch without falling apart. He knew her heart would never belong to him, had heard no response from her in the nearly four months since he had confessed his love to her, and he had stayed away – would have continued to, if not for Galadriel’s command – so he would not have to hear her say that she wanted no more than friendship from him.

“Haldir?” she called after him, confused as he strode off. He did not look back.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Cradling your hand against your chest, you stared after Haldir’s broad back, hurt by his obvious dismissal. You thought he must still be angry with you, even if Orophin had claimed it was not so. You had not seen him since the orcs attacked you at Nimrodel, and somehow you felt that his present distance had as much to do with that event as it did with Eilinel’s comments. Watching him walk away from you was more painful than you could have expected, wondering what to do.

You had obeyed the edict – same as the rest of the inhabitants of Caras Galadhon – that no one was to go out into the forest until the Wardens gave the all clear. It had been months now, and you had longed for a chance to speak to Haldir when you heard that he had been invited – _ordered?_ – by Lady Galadriel to attend the celebration.

Unfortunately, you had arrived a little late; dithering about which dress to wear had taken longer than expected, but you felt that wearing your customary pale green would only bring up bad memories.

Instead, you had picked a deep red gown, the colour of the roses of Imloth Melui, which suited your pale skin and dark hair perfectly. One thing the Orc-encounter had shown you was that time was too short; you would not – could not – wait any longer. You had to tell Haldir that you cared for him, as the ellon you wanted to call hervenn, and let the pieces fall where they may after that, even if it cost you his friendship.

Making a quick decision, you followed him, your bare feet silent on the mossy forest floor. Stepping into a clearing between four trees – home of a small fountain – you found him sitting on the edge, staring into the fountain and trailing his fingers thoughtfully through the water.

Kneeling by his feet, you dared put your hand on his knee. “Haldir,” you whispered, when he faced you. His gaze might be turned your way, but you had the feeling he saw nothing, _heard_ nothing. Nothing but the whispers of those who did not understand him and chose to condemn him because they did not find him as beautiful as you did. “Haldir can you hear me?” you asked, keeping your voice low.

 

* * *

 

He stared. Her large blue eyes were looking up at him, concern easily read in those midnight pools, her dark hair shining in the low light of the evening lanterns. All around her, her deep red silk gown spread, like a pool of blood that made his heart beat a quick tattoo in his chest as he remembered her lying too still on the forest floor as her dress turned from his favourite spring green to that very colour.

“Haldir,” she whispered, and his name had never sounded so good. He wished – he wished so _badly_ – that he was brave enough to hear what she had to say. “Haldir, can you hear me?” Her hand was resting on his leg, and he could feel the slight movements of her fingers rubbing the supple leather. He couldn’t bear to be touched by her, but he couldn’t bear to push her away, either. “I heard what Eilinel said,” she murmured, looking down, “but they are wrong about you. I know it.”

Haldir could not find his words. The trouble was that Eilinel was _not_ wrong, nor was she the first to say such words about him; Elves had been saying so ever since he reached adulthood. He had always been strong, even as a boy, and his mother had encouraged his training with any and all weapons that took his fancy. While she had still been in the forest, he had not cared about his bigger bulk; Naneth claimed he took after his ada, even if Haldir did not remember much about the way he had looked.

“Haldir, are you listening to me?” He nodded, raising his wet hand to cup her face. Perhaps this was a dream, nothing more. Droplets trailed down her pale neck, his fingertips tangling in raven silk. Her blue eyes widened.

 

* * *

 

“Haldir, are you listening to me?” you whispered, surprised when his hand cupped your cheek, but leaning into the cool touch, the water running down your heated skin. He nodded. You put your free hand on top of his, turning your face to press your lips to his calloused palm, much as he had done so many years ago when you first met. “You are one of the best ellyn I know,” you continued, raising your eyes to catch him staring wide-eyed at your mouth, “you are brave, and strong, and though some think you are cold, I know that you are kind.”

Sliding your palm further down his arm, trailing a touch up to his shoulder, you rose onto your knees, licking your lips nervously.

“What are you doing…?” Haldir whispered, but he stayed still beneath your hand, staring at you as though he was not quite sure you were real.

“Something I ought to have done years ago,” you replied, pressing your fingers against the cloth that hid his well-muscled shoulder from view. “Haldir, do you remember the day we met?” you whispered, trailing your hand up to his neck. Steadying yourself by leaning your weight on his knee, you used your free hand to turn his face towards yours. He remained tense, still as a statue beneath your hands. “I wanted…” you spoke the words, feeling his breath caress your lips. His blue eyes looked wide and slightly frightened. “I wanted to kiss you then,” you admitted, hearing the involuntary gasp of his response. “When you showed up at my talan, you looked so fierce, a warrior of legend, and I wondered if you had come to sweep me away, to wage war against whatever defences I could muster. I wondered if you would kiss me again, even if it was only my hand, but I lost my courage and asked you only for friendship. It was wrong of me. I did not desire your friendship-” He made some sort of sound in protest, but the tips of your fingers against his lips made him fall silent, still staring at you. “No, Haldir, I did not desire you as my friend then; I desired you to be far more than that, and even if I must settle for friendship, I still desire more. I… I fell in love with you on that first day, and I have spent every _year_ since then falling further.” You took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is- umph!”

Whatever you had meant to say was lost to your mind when his lips found yours, his strong arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you to your feet and held you close against him, never letting your mouth leave his. His lips were forceful but soft against yours, eager yet cautious, his hold secure but never harmful. You surrendered to the kiss, pouring all your love and frustration into the simple meeting of mouths with a breathy sigh.

“I love you,” he said, and then he was kissing you again and your arms found their way around his neck, your fingers running down his powerful shoulders as you kissed him for all you were worth.

“You do?” you asked, breathless, when he pulled back slightly. For a moment he looked confused, but then he laughed lightly.

“You never did hear my confession four months ago in the medic’s tent, did you?” he laughed, joyous as he picked you up and spun you around in a dizzying dance.

“No, melmenya[1],” you relied, kissing him softly when you found yur feet once more. “I thought you were angry with me,” you flushed, looking down at your feet, “and that was why you did not wish to be near me. You did not come to the celebration of the equinox, and I could not sing for you as I wished.”

His arms tightened around your body, pulling you close as he trembled lightly. “Angry with myself that I had not protected you better, _melda heri_ , never with you,” he confessed against your lips, whimpering slightly as he ran his hand over the front of your shoulder, touched the wound since-healed. “ _Yá lindal, eleni carir ello **[2]**…_ I always want to listen to you sing,” he admitted, pressing his forehead against yours and clutching you tight.

“Haldir,” you smiled, burying your fingers in his soft hair and making him focus on your face once more. “ _Antan órenya tyenna **[3]**_.” This time, his kiss was softer, exploring your lips slowly, dragging gently across your skin. You moaned softly, feeling him stiffen.

“ _Nál melme cuilenyava **[4]**,”_ he whispered, pressing you closer to him as his lips continued to play havoc with your mind. “ _Melanyet ar merin vesta tyenna. Man indotya ná? **[5]**”_

“ _Indonya ná ve indotya. Apa mine yénenna, veryuvalve **[6]**,_ ” you murmured quietly. Haldir chuckled against your lips, stealing playful kisses.

“I suppose we should find a set of rings,” he murmured, his arms loosening slightly, reluctant to let go of you.

“Don’t care,” you grumbled, pressing yourself closer to his body, “we can do that tomorrow.” Haldir groaned softly, his embrace tightening once more and making you realise that your presence in his arms had not left him physically unaffected. The thought made you smile.

“Tomorrow?” he asked. You nodded, tugging him back down, pressing a small kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Yes,” you nodded seriously, “right now, you should kiss me and tell me you love me.”

“And what will you be doing then, my lady Lirulin?” he teased, but he bent to kiss you softly, making you sigh into his mouth.

“Kissing you,” you stated, boldly letting your mouth follow his, tracing his top lip with your tongue, “ _melmenya_.” Pouting hopefully up at him, you were rewarded with a brilliant smile just before Haldir’s strong arms wrapped closely around you once more, setting to his part of the bargain with relish.

 

 

 

[1] My love

[2] When you sing, the stars themselves rejoice

[3] I give you my heart.

[4] You are the love of my life

[5] I love you, and I want to marry you. What is your will?

[6] My will is like your will. At the end of one year, we shall wed!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine Haldir pinning your hips to the bed during sex. @little-red-83

You didn’t see him until you were finished with the night’s performance – the tale of Eärendil the Mariner might be old and well-known, but you loved it nonetheless – when you opened your eyes to see him leaning against the back wall, smiling at you. A light gasp escaped you, feeling your cheeks heat as you watched his smile grow, a languid thing, wrapping itself around your heart like the slow thick trickle of sweetness that was Mallorn syrup.

Nearly fleeing the stage – _were applauses normally this long?_ – you flew across the floor.

“Haldir!” you cried, throwing your arms around his neck when you reached him. Everything was right in your world when you felt his strong arms lock around your body, lifting you slightly off your feet as he kissed you like it had been years since he’d done it last. “You’re home,” you whispered breathlessly when his lips released yours, stealing his answer with another kiss as you pressed your slender shape against his bulk. Haldir was so solid – and obviously you weren’t the only one who had longed for your reunion, you realized, giggling lightly.

“My Lirulin,” he smiled, kissing your nose as he set you back on the floor. “I did not think I would be in time for your performance.” His words made you aware of your surroundings once more, hiding your glowing face in his chest. Haldir laughed in your ear, a low throaty laugh that made you shiver; a thrill of desire running up your spine. Stretching up, you ignored the chatter of the partiers behind you to nip at his well-formed jaw.

“I missed you, hervenn,” you mumbled, licking your way to the lobe of his ear and nibbling lightly. Haldir groaned.

“I should call you Uthesbes,” he chuckled, but you could feel his desire for you in the way he held you, his fingers stroking gently down your back, carefully maintaining a proper distance from the tempting curve of your arse. “Or maybe Irdis,” he groaned, as you slid you fingers down his powerful chest, tugging on the laces at his throat. You smiled.

“What does that make you, melmenya?” you murmured, tracing your tongue back and forth across the pulse-point of his throat.

“Galuven,” he smirked, tangling his fingers in your long hair to tilt your head back, claiming your lips once more. “Especially if we can get out of here soon,” he murmured against your mouth, stealing another kiss. You laughed.

“Shall I rescue the great Commander of the Marshwardens?” you laughed, pulling on his hand and leading the way towards the door, quickly disentangling yourself from the throng of admirers; Haldir followed silently, never too comfortable in the crowds of courtiers you so often navigated.

“A pleasure as always, Lady Curulaeril,” Lord Celeborn said, the Lady’s radiance appearing silently at his side.

“My lord speaks truly,” Galadriel added, her hand resting lightly on Celeborn’s. You curtsied deeply.

“I thank you, my Lady, my Lord,” you murmured, while Haldir bowed beside you.

“But we shall not keep you,” Galadriel murmured, and for a moment you could have sworn she was amused, “you have places to be, I see.” With that, they both turned, letting you escape through the far doorway, making your way to the northern part of Caras Galadhon and climbing the many steps to your home, interrupted by kisses whenever Haldir thought the moonlight made you look particularly beautiful.

When you were about halfway up the steps, Haldir’s patience ran out. You smirked when you felt him step up close behind you, one of his arms snaking around your waist to pull you back against his powerful chest.

“You are a tease, my Lirulin,” he murmured, catching the tip of your ear between his lips and sucking lightly. Your knees felt weak.

“Are you…” you gasped, when his hand trailed lower, cupping you through your pale green dress, “are you going to punish me for wanting you when you’ve been gone-” you moaned, feeling the evidence of his desire pressed against you, rocking slowly against the curve of your arse. Haldir’s free hand tilted your head, giving him access to the pale column of your throat. “so – _Oh, Haldir!_ – so long?” You felt his smirk, wondering if he’d take you right here, in plain view of anyone living on the talan attached to this level of the Mallorn. The idea somehow didn’t bother you, but all thoughts flew out of your head when he swung you into his strong arms, taking the last stairs two at a time until you reached the very top, stepping gently onto the talan you called home. Of course, it was Haldir’s home too, whenever he was in Caras Galadhon, though he was gone more than you liked. “Haldir!” you shrieked, when he tossed you down on the bedding, but the sound was swiftly replaced by a loud moan as his lips found yours again, his hands sliding slowly up your legs.

“Yes,” he whispered darkly into your mouth, his hands suddenly flexing with an unyielding grip as his mouth kissed its way down your body. “Undo the dress, Lirulin,” he commanded – you had heard him use that voice when he was ordering recruits around, but it was different now, huskier in a way that made you shiver with desire, rushing to comply with his wishes as his tongue lazily traced your collarbone, pressing a kiss to the arrow-scar on your shoulder. Unclasping the brooches that held the garment closed, you gasped when Haldir simply swept the cloth aside, moving his mouth to your breasts, playing with your nipples as your writhed beneath him, trying to buck your hips up against him, searching for the fiction you needed. Haldir chuckled huskily, looking up at you with his lust-darkened eyes. You whined at him.

“Haldir!” you pleaded, only able to reach his shoulders as he easily pinned you to the bed. He smirked.

“Touch your breasts, my love,” he husked, moving lower. You gasped.

“Ha-Haldir?” you whispered uncertainly, though your hands followed his command, touching you the way you liked; the way he had showed you. Haldir hummed, his tongue dipping into your navel, circling lazily. “Wha---what are you - _Oh!_ – do-oing?” You knew what he was doing, but he’d not done it before, making you gasp as his tongue touched your slick folds. Somehow, the fact that he was still fully dressed made you hotter, but his hands kept your hips tight against the mattress, refusing to let you move to get _more_ of him. Moaning at the feel of that soft-but-strong muscle running into your flower, you gave up trying to play with your breasts, tangling your hands in his pale hair instead, nearly desperate to keep going.

“You like this?” he murmured, but you could feel his pleased smirk against your core, the way his tongue dipped inside you, searching for more of your liquid honey. “You’re sweet, love,” he mumbled, but when you tightened your grip on the long strands he blessedly continued his task, making you mewl in pleasure, his hands stilling your writhing hips, though you could feel the way he groaned against you when you tugged.

“Haldir, please!” you moaned, one of your hands returning to play with your breast, tightening the coil of pleasure in your belly.

Growling, he did something your scrambled mind couldn’t follow, but somehow your legs ended up draped over his strong shoulders, your heels drumming lightly on the taut muscles of his back as his tongue was joined by a single finger rapidly thrusting into your willing flesh.

Crying out, the coil snapped without warning, as you flew apart into a million pieces of starlight.

When you returned to your own skin, you could feel him still licking at you, small licks and nips making you shudder and keen until it was suddenly too much. Pushing his face away from you, you stared. Haldir looked wrecked. His hair was a mess and his face glistened in the moonlight. He chuckled.

“That was fun,” he mumbled, letting your legs fall to the bed. You moaned weakly, reaching for him. Leaning down, he kissed you gently. You frowned, confused.

“Is that… me?” you asked, licking at his lips. Haldir nodded, sliding his tongue into your mouth to deepen the kiss. The taste was somehow both sweet and tangy, you thought, wanting more. Wrapping your arms around him, you pulled him down towards you. Haldir hissed. “Haldir?” you asked, worried. He chuckled, kissing you softly.

“These breeches are not too comfortable, love,” he smirked, his fingers playing with your nipple.

“Why are you still dressed?” you complained, tugging ineffectively at the cloth covering his shoulder. You wanted his skin. You also wanted the hardness you could feel pressed into your hip, spreading your legs to cradle him. Haldir groaned into your shoulder. Feeling daring, you pushed one hand down to wrap around him, stroking slowly across the cloth. Haldir pushed your hand away with a hiss, hurriedly undoing the laces. Wrapping your hand around him once more, you stroked slowly, enjoying the silken feel of skin and underlying steel.

“ _Irdis!_ ” he groaned, thrusting his hips lightly into your touch. You laughed, catching the tip of his ear between your lips and tugging lightly.

“Come to me, _hervenn_ ,” you murmured, pressing him slowly against your folds, coating him in your slickness. Haldir sealed his lips over the pulse beating in your neck, sucking rhythmically as he pressed inexorably forward. It was slow, but oh you’d missed this feeling of fullness in the month he’d been gone. Trailing one hand up to cup his jaw, your other one drifted down to rest lightly against his arse, feeling the muscles move under his skin as he began thrusting lightly. “Haldir,” you whispered. He nodded, his shoulders trembling. “I told you to come to me, hervenn,” you murmured, “but perhaps I should have asked you to take me like the powerful Commander Haldir?” A groan greeted your question as Haldir’s hips snapped forwards immediately. You moaned, nipping at his ear. “Yess…” you hissed, feeling him speed up, knowing this was what you both needed; the hard thrusts heightened your own passions, making you even slicker. When he pulled away, you mewled unhappily, tugging him back to you. Once more you found your legs thrown over his shoulders, but this time it wasn’t his tongue that undid you, clenching tight around Haldir’s mighty invasion.

“So tight!” he groaned, looking almost pained as he lent down to kiss you, hitting some spot inside you that made you see stars. Crying out, your back bowed with every thrust, offering your breasts to his talented mouth. Haldir growled, his hips pistoning into your soft heat, the harsh slap of flesh on flesh loud in your ears.

One of his fingers trailed along your hip, pressing firmly against the spot that had made you keen when he used his tongue and you exploded in pleasure.

You hardly heard his loud groan, barely registered his weight as he fell onto your exhausted body, both of you floating in a haze of starlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lirulin = lark  
> Uthesbes = temptation wife  
> Irdis = sexual desire wife  
> Galuven= Fortunate/blessed husband


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine Orophin and Rumil seeing the scratches you left on Haldir’s back.

“You’ve been gone too long, melmenya,” you sighed sleepily, feeling Haldir chuckle against the skin of your bared shoulder. He kissed it again, making you turn over and accept a proper kiss. Sliding his arm around your waist, Haldir joined you in bed, content to bury his face in your hair and pull you back against his chest.

“I have,” he agreed, but you knew that did not mean he would shirk his duty.

“Perhaps I will abduct my beloved husband away from his duty, as his duty so often abducts him from me,” you joked. Haldir’s laugh rumbled in your ear as he squeezed you closer to his broad chest.

“Perhaps my lady-wife would like a tour of the borders soon?” he countered, “we have had no trouble in months and I would like to spend more time with you.” Saying nothing, you simply turned around, fully awake now anyway, and kissed him until you needed to breathe.

“I have missed you, Haldir,” you whispered, pulling him close. “My bed is so very large without you here to fill it.” Giving him a wink, you pulled him down on top of you – as often before marvelling at how willingly he followed your lead – wrapping one slender leg around his hip. He rested calmly on top of you, letting you take most of his weight – a wry memory of your wedding night appeared, remembering how worried he’d been that his powerful build would crush you. “Are you too tired from your journey, my love?” you murmured, turning your head to kiss his ear lightly, teasing him fondly as your bare leg rubbed against his. Haldir was still clad in the green and grey garb of his post, and groaned against your collarbone. Evidently, _he_ was not too tired to want you, you thought, watching smugly as he knelt between your legs and pulled off his tunic.

“I have missed _you_ , my tempting Lirulin,” he claimed, leaning down to kiss you. His hands were busy undoing his breeches while yours traced the hard roundness of his shoulders. When he pulled you up for another kiss, your hands slid down his back, scratching lightly until you grabbed his backside, running your fingers across the muscles there. He had undone his laces, but he made you laugh in delight when he – aware that you melted for his strength – picked you, getting to his feet easily and began undoing your light sleeping robe with his teeth. The shoulder fastenings gave way easily, and the diaphanous silk pooled like water at your feet. Haldir groaned, kissing you fervently as his hands roamed your body. Pushing at the waistband of his breeches, you managed to get them down beneath his buttocks, grabbing the cheeks of his arse for leverage to press yourself – or him – closer. Need was coursing through your flesh as your husband dipped his head, claiming your mouth in a scorching kiss that made you mewl against him. When Haldir lifted your leg, hitching it around his hip once more, you gasped, feeling your pliant flesh part slightly for him. Haldir rubbed himself against you, easily carrying your weight as he teased you, his lips finding your throat and trailing down to your breasts.

“Haldir,” you moaned breathily. “I need you, hervenn.” When he picked you up, you simply wrapped your other leg around his waist, trusting him to hold your weight. Haldir smirked. He was always careful when he first breached you, enjoying the slow glide as he pressed into you until fully seated. You had come to enjoy the feeling of fullness more than you had thought you would, when told about the mechanics of the bedroom, clutching his shoulders once more as you surrendered yourself to the way he plucked your nipples with his mouth.

“My beautiful wife,” he whispered, still at times in disbelief when he caught sight of you, disbelief that someone so lovely in his eyes would have more than a glance to spare in his direction.

“Haldir!” you groaned, pinching his arse and startling him out of whatever thoughts had turned his eyes sad. “I need you, melmenya,” you moaned, beginning to move yourself on him. Haldir stared at you, his mouth hanging open. You hadn’t done this before, you knew, smirking into the kiss you gave him. Trailing kisses up his strong jaw to his ear, you whispered the words once more, “I take you for my own, my strength and my love, and to you I give my heart, my song and my love.” You had sworn the vow on your wedding night, years ago, but it held true then as it did not. Haldir trembled, falling to his knees when you wrapped your lips gently around the tip of his sensitive ear. When you sucked the tip into your mouth, flicking it with your tongue, he groaned, pulling away and laying you down flat on the mattress.

“My wife,” he smiled, studying you. One of your hands trailed to your breast, flicking the hardened nipple at the tip of the soft flesh with your finger. Haldir stared for one breathless moment. Then he surged, meeting your welcoming flesh with his own hardness as he groaned into your skin. You moaned deeply. Clutching his body to you breast, you kissed him blindly, thrusting your hips up to meet his every move. “My Lirulin,” he sighed, nipping at your ear as his skilful hands made you keen.

 

* * *

 

“I see Curulaeril was happy to have you home,” Rumil remarked teasingly, elbowing Orophin. Haldir had returned to his post – he had stayed for a night and day, but afforded himself no more time for running a message to the Lord and Lady of Caras Galadhon than any other Marsh Warden – and the three brothers were planning on enjoying a leisurely swim as the afternoon waned. Haldir dropped his tunic on the ground.

“I agree, brother-mine, that wife of yours must have missed you something fierce,” Orophin called, stifling his laughter. Haldir turned, scowling at the two miscreants.

“What my wife feels is none of your business,” he barked, annoyed to be interrupted in his recollection of the pleasant memories of the night – and morning – he spent in her bed.

“Oh, yes, brother, I’m sure she let you _feel_ it more than enough for us,” Rumil replied cheekily, dancing out of reach of Haldir’s arm.

“What are you two laughing at!” the commander groused. Orophin had collapsed in paroxysms of laughter, while Rumil was leaning against a tree; overcome by his own humour.

“Well, let’s just say that if you don’t want to make the rest of the Wardens too jealous of your … _happiness_ ,” Rumil winked. Haldir’s scowl darkened. “you shouldn’t take your tunic off in front of others until the _evidence_ heals, brother.”

“Evidence?” Haldir frowned.

“To be fair, you look like you had a run in with some angry brambles,” Orophin added quietly, still chuckling. Haldir turned his head, looking at his shoulder, which did indeed bear three vividly red scratch-marks, evenly spaced and obviously made by his wife’s nails when she clutched him in the throes of pleasure. Haldir blushed, hearing again the way she moaned his name when she flew apart beneath him, dragging him into oblivion with her. Orophin came up behind him, tracing a few of the deeper marks further down. Haldir remembered the way she had gripped his arse, driving him harder into her body, harder than he might have dared otherwise, but _oh so good_. He could feel the need for her rise in his flesh, simply thinking about the sated smile on her face when he left in the morning. Rumil threw himself into the water with a splash, his desire to tease his older brother satisfied for the moment. “She scratched up your back pretty good. I guess that means you treated her right.” Orophin said, a smile in his tone.

“Did you think I would not?” Haldir frowned, turning to glare at his younger brother. Orophin shook his head.

“No… but we care about you, brother, we want you to be happy… and her.” With a grin, Orophin ducked away, losing his own clothes and joining Rumil in the water. Haldir shook his head fondly. His brothers were fond of his wife, he knew, but it warmed him that they took such interest in her happiness… even if it showed mostly through mocking and teasing him.


End file.
